Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Mauritius and from Johannesburg.
But I was there.
I was there in 1965.
I was there at the first Beefheart show in Lancaster.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Calgary and Paris.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Paris kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1976 at the first Buzzcocks practice in a loft in Bolton.
I was working on the linndrum sounds with much patience.
I was there when Robert Palmer started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing Art Ensemble Of Chicago to the punk kids.
I played it at CBGB's.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Bush Tetras. All the underground hits.
All Marc Romboy vs. Booka Shade tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Lindisfarne record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal disco hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '50s cut and another box set from the '80s.
I hear you're buying a theremin and a linndrum and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Cluster record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your harpsichord and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a harpsichord.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
John Lydon,
The Residents,
Gang Starr,
DJ Sneak,
The Modern Lovers,
Moss Icon,
MC5,
The Cowsills,
Metal Thangz,
Throbbing Gristle,
Matthew Bourne,
Roxy Music,
Livin' Joy,
Animal Collective,
China Crisis,
Camron Feat. Memphis Bleek And Beenie Seigel,
Essential Logic,
Faraquet,
Terry Callier,
Blake Baxter,
Drive Like Jehu,
Deutsch Amerikanische Freundschaft,
Susan Cadogan,
Lebanon Hanover,
Infiniti,
The Flesh Eaters,
The Monks,
Barry Ungar,
The Standells,
Cybotron,
Red Lorry Yellow Lorry,
The Vogues,
The Raincoats,
Blancmange,
F. McDonald,
Schoolly D,
Kool G Rap & DJ Polo,
Ultimate Spinach,
The Wake,
Masters at Work,
The Move,
The Dirtbombs,
The Detroit Cobras,
Althea and Donna,
Fad Gadget,
The Busters,
Super Lover Cee & Casanova Rud,
Thee Headcoats,
Unrelated Segments,
Public Enemy,
Curtis Mayfield,
The Pop Group,
LL Cool J,
Matthew Halsall,
Duran Duran,
Arthur Verocai,
Von Mondo,
KRS-One,
The Moleskins,
Dorothy Ashby,
Pet Shop Boys,
The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke, The Smoke.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.